


Maybe I just Wanna Be Yours

by mizunohikaru



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Related, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oneshot, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizunohikaru/pseuds/mizunohikaru
Summary: They were there, on the dirty corner of the alleyway of the second Salem, but all of the sudden it feels like a safe haven. Mr. Graves were here, with him. It’s no matter if the mildew scent filled the air along with litter scattered all over the sides of the slum, with busy chatter from main street were faintly heard as the crowded street was bustling with automobiles’ noises from afar. Here in the alley, there were only the two of them.
Taken from Credence's POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All inspired from [this amazing Gradence artwork](https://twitter.com/temari_AM/status/802459786037997568) by temari_AM. Check her out, she's such an amazing artist!
> 
> I tried hard to make this somewhat linear with the actual scene in the movie. You know, that scene in the alley when Gellert, as Percival Graves, gave Credence the Deathly Hollow pedant? I hope I portrayed it well XDXD
> 
> P.S: Un-betaed. Bear with any typo and bad grammar of mine XDXD Just in case you're wondering, I'm listening ["I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys](https://open.spotify.com/track/0t6eWxZFkm89DuTj8tJ2fz) non-stop when I was writing this fic as I put it on repeat. I posted the lyrics in the beginning of the fic, as the song fits well.

* * *

 

_♪_ _♫_ _Secrets I have held in my heart_  
Are harder to hide than I thought  
Maybe I just wanna be yours  
I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours  
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours  
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours... _♪_ _♫_ _♬_

  

* * *

 

“Credence.”

The heat spreads from the trails those fingertips touched him. The boy held his breath unconsciously, fascinated with the deep dark orbs that stared straight at him. He could see his own reflection there, drowned inside those unreadable abyss; looked unsure, awkward, flushed with bright red colour stained his pale cheeks. His image reflections were framed there: shamefully longing, pining.

 

“Show me.”

The metallic odor was slightly there as his hands were sore and bleeding, full of the freshly cuts his adoptive mother inflicted towards him. Those stings from his wounded hands were gone after Mr. Graves healed his wounds, those brows were furrowed deep with troubled expression as he traced over his palm. There was an accusation unspoken, as those eyes silently asked: “ _Your mother again?”_ Credence couldn’t reply, as he could only thought that Mr. Graves care for him. _He cares about me. I’m matter to him._

He was pulled into a hug, a warm embrace. They were there, on the dirty corner of the alleyway of the second Salem, but all of the sudden it feels like a safe haven. Mr. Graves were here, with him. It’s no matter if the mildew scent filled the air along with litter scattered all over the sides of the slum, with busy chatter from main street were faintly heard as the crowded street was bustling with automobiles’ noises from afar. Here in the alley, there were only the two of them. The heat grew inside him, making his heart beats faster.

 

“I want you to have this, Credence. I would trust very few with it—“ The older male showed him a necklace; a symbolic pedant attached onto it. “Very few,” Those dark orbs stared at him once more, and Credende’s breath hitched, “. . . But you—you’re different.”

 

_You are different._

Credence shivered with a trail of… excitement? He felt happy, with sparks of proudness. Those fingers brushed on his cheeks softly, bewitching and inviting. It felt intimate, Mr. Graves were only inches away—a rich scent of nice mixture of the musk and sandalwood emitted from the older male, and Credence’s chest heaved as he tried to savour the taste.

 

He didn’t have a name for this feelings of him, fluttered inside of him like thousands of butterfly swirled wildly— _is it love? Is it respect? Is it admiration?_ All his life, Credence barely got any praises. There were no one to hug and comfort him during his rough childhood. He didn’t remember much of his real family, and his adoptive family was far from warm.

 

_“Your mother was a wicked, unnatural woman,”_ _His adoptive mother, Mary Lou hissed as she repeated those sentences over and over like a chant; eyes harsh with hatred,_ _“Evil wrench. And you—you are her sin. You are her son, after all.”_

He could only rolled himself into a ball, crouched down as he hugged his legs—shaking. He endured blow after blow; and no matter how loud the beating, Chasity often ignored him like she always do, pretending that everything is fine. Only little Modesty showed him pity, but the little girl couldn’t do much. Credence could only swallowed everything down and bear his loneliness, feeling worthless as he was loveless.

 

Until Mr. Graves came and showed up in his life.

 

Gallant with his draped coat and his sharp suits, with hair combed back in place, the older male charmed him with his charisma. Credence could never averted his eyes from those dark orbs, intoxicated even more meeting after meeting.

 

_“There is something else. Something I haven’t told you,” The tone was low, beguiling, “I saw you beside me in New York.” Credence eyes went wide. Another blush appeared on his pale skin, painted him in pinkish hue. Mr. Graves’s fingers reached him, squeezed his shoulder, ”You’re the one that gains this child’s trust. You are the key—I saw this. You want to join the wizarding world.”_

_The truth is, Credence craved more for the Auror’s companion more than anything. The wizarding world is only a bonus, a perk. After all, it’s Grave’s world. A world filled with magic, and he wants to learn them to support the latter. To prove that he was worthy, that he was capable, and that Mr. Graves need him.” I want those things too, Credence,” Those dark orbs—it’s always those dark orbs that stared straight into his core, “I want them for you. So find the child. Find the child and we’ll all be free.”_

_Credence gulped, hard. He gaped. He could feel that he flushed, more than usual. He could see his own reflections on those orbs, embarrassed yet hoping, longing. “Only you can help me—“ The Auror touched the younger boy’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “You will do it for me… right Credence?”_

 

“I’ll do anything for you,” He murmured, repeated his answer back then.

He meant it. He will do anything Mr. Graves asked him, as he want to please the latter. _He cares. He cares for me. And this feelings… is this love? I’ll do anything for him. Anything._

The chain of the pedant hanged around his neck, the symbol rest above his heart. He heaved, his breath hitched as Mr. Graves palmed his heart, covering the pedant. Heats spreads inside of him, spreading like fire.

 

“Now, when you find the child, touch this symbol and I will know, and I will come to you,” Mr. Graves smiled, “Do this and you will be honored among wizards. Forever.”

 

_Forever… with you, Mr. Graves?_

 

The man hugged him, his hand on Credence’s neck. Credence trembled in response, heart beating like the marching drums. They were so loud that his ribcage aches, and he embarrassed to the thought Mr. Graves could actually hear them.

 

“Do it for me.”

Credence nodded as he closed his eyes, relaxing to the strokes. Savouring the affection he thirsted so, like a lost man thirsted for water in the unforgiving desert.

 

“Yes, Mr. Graves,” he replied, “I’ll do anything for you.”

 

Credence didn’t want to open his eyes. It was warm on the latter’s embrace, and it feels so _right._ Like he actually belongs there. He didn’t know what exactly Mr. Graves thought him as, but it’s no matter. Credence just want to be his. He didn’t need an exact title for that—pupils, protégé, friends, lovers…? All matter is Mr. Graves will be with him.

 

The boy encouraged himself and leaned closer, inhaling the older man’s scent. The heats spread, and his heart aches. _Maybe… maybe I just want to be yours._

 

_And that, is enough… really._

 

 


End file.
